The Classroom is For Learning
by smartjingle
Summary: Harry constantly drifts off in class, and Snape uses other means to teach his student. MATURE SLASH!


A/N: This one-shot was inspired by the title which I was about to give to another story, but decided it was unsuitable. Not wanting to toss it away, I wrote a story! :D So it may be a _tad_ unrealistic, but hey, who cares when there's hawt smut, right? :3

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As Snape swished back and forth in front of the classroom, going on and on about some inane Potion or other, Harry began to drift off. He was no longer in the chilly, gloomy dungeons. He was on his broom, freely flying about the sky, diving recklessly and clearing the ground with barely a foot to spare, looping loop-de-loops with Ron and-

"POTTER!" Snape's voice startled Harry from his reverie. Harry gulped. This. was. not. good.

"Sir?" Harry's voice sounded meek and guilty, even to his own ears.

"If you feel that you are so competent in Potions, please explain to the class the properties of the Potion that I was teaching." Snape smirked smugly.

Anger danced in his emerald eyes; he wished he had a way to wipe that smirk off Snape's face. "I don't know, _sir_," he said, through clenched teeth.

"Evidently not. Daydreaming in class will not get you anywhere in life, not that _you_ can get anywhere, Potter. You'll be serving detention with me tonight. The classroom is for learning." Snape finished, glaring at Harry, who was glaring right back, just as defiantly.

The rest of the day did not go by well for Harry. He could not turn his rat into a lamp in Transfigurations, nor could he re-pot the ugly Shrieking Shrivel plants in Herbology without his ears being half ripped out. He could not read any of the dire prophecies Trelawney had seen in his tea leaves, he was beaten by _Draco Malfoy_ during a mock Quidditch game practice, and was bitten by the new, bird-like, and most likely illegal, creatures that Hagrid had obtained for his class. By the time his detention rolled around, Harry was totally pissed off.

He knocked on the foreboding double doors to the Potion's class, hoping against hope that the Professor had somehow fallen ill and could not oversee his detention. Of course, the slimy Slytherin did not, and thus, Harry entered the room reluctantly when bid to do so, closing the doors behind him with regret. Harry made his way to the front of the class, stopping to a halt a foot from the teacher's desk.

Snape was at his desk as usual, grading papers with furious quill strokes, no doubt displeased at the atrocious work handed in by his younger years. What was not usual was his attire. In place of the normally dark teaching robes, he had on a white shirt with slightly billowed sleeves and a small V-shaped slit at the neck, and what appeared to me _Muggle!_ form-fitting black jeans. Harry ogled his Professor for a moment, who had also appeared to have finally found the greatest Muggle invention ever known to Wizards; shampoo.

Harry quickly shook his head. He was not looking at his Professor, he was not thinking of his Professor as _sexy_, and he was most definitely _not_ thinking that of Snape. Not not not! Yes, just repeat that to yourself slowly Harry. Slow does it.

Suddenly, Snape looked up. The intensity of the gaze startled Harry and sent him back into a silent repetition of 'Not not not!'. The darker than charcoal black eyes were like lasers, Harry was sure they could pierce right through his heart and soul. Did he just think heart? Not not not!

The Potion's Master stood up, allowing Harry a full view of his slim, slightly-toned body. He almost seemed amused when what saliva left in Harry's mouth dried in an instant, even his mental chant stuttered when the Professor _stretched_, the long arms reaching out, the abdominal muscles rippling slightly, and the shirt riding up just high enough to show a little skin.

Harry swallowed again, mentally kicking his voice, he said, or rather croaked like a dry-mouthed toad, "Detention?"

"Your vocabulary has degraded to single words, I see." The Potion's Master said silkily, making Harry feel like the voice should be made illegal. "Not to worry Potter. Your detention tonight will not require the usage of your pitiful knowledge of the English language." Harry was transfixed by the deep baritone voice, and suddenly wished that he had paid more attention to the lectures in class. Then again, if he did, he'd probably be rock hard all through class. He blushed. It definitely was making him that way now.

Snape seemed to realise that fact all too well, and he skirted around his desk and stood between his desk and Harry, leaning _much_ too close into the Gryffindor's personal space to be considered professional. His voice ghosted over Harry's flushed face as he spoke, "Well, are you ready to serve your detention yet?" Harry could smell the man when he was so close to him, and by Merlin, he smelled good. Harry stopped that train of thought. Not not not!

The Potion's Master was amused by Harry's internal debate which flickered over his face. One moment the boy's eyes would be glazed over and lusty, the next his face would be screwed up in concentration. The Professor would have laughed if this was another situation. He dragged one long finger up the side of the boy's neck, pleased when a small tremor made its way through the smaller body. The finger trailed slowly upwards, ending just underneath Harry's chin, and pushed upwards, so that their eyes met.

Harry sucked in a breath as he saw the intensity in those black as night orbs. He could see lust swirling around in them, possibly anger, definitely intimidation, and… was that affection? But before he could ponder on that, the taller man dipped his head down and caught Harry's lips with his own, effectively ending Harry's capacity for thinking. Forever.

Harry whimpered as a hot tongue probed at his lips, and opened his mouth to grant Severus access. The man tasted like fine whisky, a little tangy, and entirely addictive. Harry couldn't stop his hands from wanting to discover the contours of the lean body, and was rewarded when hand reciprocated his groping.

Suddenly, Severus grasped Harry's buttocks and ground their erections together. Harry gasped, and moaned when he did it again, revelling in this newfound feeling of pleasure. Severus, whose cheeks were as flushed as Harry's by now, and whose clothes were definitely too tight, was not feeling very patient, and practically ripped at Harry's shirt. This effectively removed the offending garment, albeit minus the buttons, but allowed him continued exploration of the lithe, but toned, body, this time with his lips.

Harry would have been pissed if not for his want, then all antagonistic thoughts towards the Potion's Master dissipated when he felt a hot tongue circle his nipple. He struggled unsuccessfully with Severus' many buttons, buckles and clasps, and ripped like he had done when his efforts were fruitless. The momentary shock and anger in the inky eyes was well worth it, and the heated look quickly turned into lust and frustration when Harry began returning his quickly learned lessons onto him.

Severus felt that if he did not bury himself into Harry this very moment, he would explode, physically and mentally. He quickly Vanished the rest of their clothing and spun them around, pushing Harry against his desk. In his haste, he knocked over his inkwell and scattered some half-marked essays over the ground. Cursing, he cleared the desk with the wave of his wand, and crushed himself against the student, pushing the raven-haired boy onto the desk.

Harry was surprised when his pants suddenly disappeared, but even more so when he was unceremoniously pushed onto the desk. Fear trickled through his lust-induced haze. This was his Professor, his ex-Death Eater, I-Kill-Kittens-For-Fun and I-Hate-Harry-Potter Professor. His eyes cleared slightly and he saw the intensity of Snape's scrutiny of his face, and suddenly felt self-conscious. Snape could probably read the hesitation in his eyes, and slowed, kissing him gentler, like a lov-

He shouldn't be thinking there, so he stopped, closed his eyes, and enjoyed the kiss instead. His tongue tangling with Snape's did not seem as abhorrent as he'd thought, not that he had thought of that before tonight, but…

Harry could feel the heat coming back, pooling in his belly and firing tingles down his limbs. He allowed Snape to lean him backwards, one of the man's hands behind his head to lower him slowly, and the other pulling his leg up so they were aligned. He gasped when Snape decided to rub against him in that most intimate way and moaned when one of his Professor's hands wrapped around the both of them, stroking languidly. Harry made a small choked sound in frustration, willing Severus to move faster.

As if reading his thoughts, the Potion's Master stopped, and gently slid away from Harry. The boy whimpered at this loss but soon had his legs pulled onto the other man's shoulders. Severus, also nearing the end of his patience, muttered a quick lubricating and stretching charm, locked eyes with Harry, and _pushed_.

The Gryffindor felt that he was in Heaven and Hell, all at once. How could he experience such sinful pleasure without being condemned to suffering for all of eternity? But at that moment, he could simply not care, for Snape started to _move_ inside him, and by Merlin, that undone him like nothing else would. He came and came and came, shouting out in the intensity of his orgasm. Briefly, he recalled the man thrusting in, and coming with him, biting into his shoulder to stifle his own cries. Severus collapsed bodily onto Harry, covering the smaller boy with himself, but bracing most of his weigh on one elbow. He stood up, slipping from Harry, who squirmed uncomfortably.

The Professor redressed quickly, and put his desk back in order. When he was done, he turned to the Gryffindor, who was now also clothed. "Well Potter. I believe your detention is served," Snape drawled. Harry took this as the cue to leave, and hobbled towards the door, the sore arse protesting whenever he took a step.

Halfway to the door, Snape shouted, "Potter!" Harry turned around, locking eyes with the older man. "I expect good behaviour from class. You wouldn't want to spend detention with me again, would you?" His voice was low and felt like liquid honey against Harry's ears.

Harry replied, "I will do my best, sir," and smirked.

Snape returned the gesture. "It would seem you have finally grasped the hang of something in my lessons today. Remember Potter, the classroom is for learning."


End file.
